


More than a Handful

by teapot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:42:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teapot/pseuds/teapot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft gives Lestrade a handjob. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than a Handful

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for this [prompt](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/19351.html?thread=114494615) on the SH Kink meme

Mycroft’s hand travelled down to Greg’s crotch. He felt Greg pause, his breath hitching slightly as he pressed his hand against the growing bulge, squeezing him through his trousers.

He moaned into the kiss as Mycroft lay his hand flat against Greg’s erection, fingers curling slightly as he stroked him. Groaning, Greg reached for Mycroft’s tie, pulling him harder against his mouth, hips rocking against his hand. In a swift movement, Mycroft was on top of him, straddling his waist and pinning his arms back against the sofa, crushing their mouths together. Greg bucked slightly against Mycroft, feeling the press of his erection against his own straining cock, hating how desperate he wanted him to rip his clothes off and fuck him hard.

Mycroft nipped at his bottom lip before forcing their mouths together again. Lost in the kiss, he was only vaguely aware of Mycroft pulling his shirt from his trousers, one hand deftly sliding the buttons free, the other moving in to stroke the exposed flesh beneath, pulling lightly on soft hairs. His back arched as Mycroft pinched his nipple between his fingers, tweaking it almost painfully. With a vulgar wet sound, he pulled away from Greg’s mouth and latched onto the nipple, lightly biting and flicking his tongue against the sensitive point. He hissed as Mycroft bit him harder, sucking and pulling at the skin before kissing his way up Greg’s neck and sucking on his jaw.

One hand around his neck, Greg pulled him closer as Mycroft reached down lightly palming his straining cock, squeezing him through the fabric of his trousers. He moaned again as Mycroft moved down to crouch between his legs, popping open the button on his trousers, pulling down the zip, sliding a hand inside and gripping his cock through his boxer shorts, pre-cum oozing through the cotton.

Raising his hips slightly Greg helped Mycroft pull down his trousers and boxers, kicking them off and finally freeing his leaking cock. Mycroft reached out and forced Greg’s legs apart before scooting forward and cupping his balls against his palm, squeezing them together as his other hand curled around his thick shaft, holding him lightly and dragging his foreskin back to expose the head, rubbing his thumb against the frenulum making Greg gasp and rock into his grip.

His breath began to quicken as Mycroft tightened his grip and in a slow, almost feathery touch began to move his hand, tugging and squeezing Greg’s balls with his other. The friction made him hiss and Mycroft leaned forward to spit on his cock, using his thumb to spread pre-cum over the sensitive head. He spat again, and Greg panted as he watched globs of Mycroft’s saliva mix with his pre-cum, and drip down his straining cock. His pace began to quicken, both hands alternating along his aching shaft, pressing his balls with his palm and squeezing the base of his cock.

He cried out as Mycroft’s fingers began to circle the head ticking the ridge and slowing the pace with his other hand. His breath was coming in short pants as he rocked into Mycroft’s hand, swallowing hard with each squeeze and rub. With a final cry he came hard, come hitting him in the chest and pooling over Mycroft’s hand. Panting he tried to catch his breath, pulling away as Mycroft continued to stroke his over-sensitive cock. Moving onto the sofa next to him, Mycroft kissed him hard, sucking on his tongue, fingers trailing lazily through the mess on Greg’s chest.

“I need to clean up.” Greg murmured lazily.

“As do I.” He turned to look at Mycroft, his eyes finding the dark patch on his grey trousers and with a grin he reached out, pulling him down and kissing him sloppily.

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit is more than welcome.


End file.
